Somewhere Between Water and Sky (Shattered Things #2) (17 page)

“
Sorry. No. I
’
m fine. I
’
ll just go down in this.
”
I flick my hands down and up, over my standard leggings and over-sized shirt.

“
Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. It
’
ll be hot out there.
”

I call after her as she walks into the bathroom.

“
75 degrees is
not hot,
Jessa.
”

She answers by throwing me her middle finger and then slamming the door in my face. I take the knife and cut into the lime, squeezing the juice over the bowl. Jessa
’
s out of the bathroom and completely changed before I can grab the salt.

“
Okay. I
’
m ready when you are.
”
She leans against the counter and rests her chin in her hand.

I grab the bowl with both hands and swing around to the refrigerator, put it on one of the shelves, and then turn to face her. Her bikini is bright orange
—
a big surprise
—
and her cover up reveals what her mini-skirt did not: another tattoo of a lion with a mane made of flowers on her upper thigh.

“
Whoa. Nice piece.
”
I point to her leg and then blush when she giggles.
“
I meant your tattoo. Not your ass. Although, you do have a nice ass. It
’
s just
…”
I can feel my face shift into ten shades of red so I stop.
“
Never mind. I like your lion. That
’
s not a euphemism is it?
”

Jessa laughs.
“
No. But I
’
m sure we could make it one.
”

Groaning, I walk past her and grab my phone out of my purse.
“
Okay. Now that I
’
ve sufficiently embarrassed myself, I
’
m ready.
”

.::.

The late afternoon is hazy with a marine layer blowing in over the shore. We walk down the street, passing a teal building with yellow trim, the various tourist groups with matching t-shirts, and a man attempting to convince people that he
’
s opening for Usher in his concert next week.

“
Come on, man! Help a brother out. I just need gas money.
”
He turns his eyes toward us and smiles.
“
Hey ladies. You want to help me make my dream come true?
”

A growl escapes my lips before I can stop it and Jessa just walks on by, not allowing him any attention. However, she does stop at a guy who sits at a table with a typewriter. A poster board on the front of his table flaps in the wind - WILL WRITE POEMS FOR DONATIONS.

She pulls a twenty out of her wallet.
“
Hey! Will you really write a poem for me?
”

He nods.
“
I will. Just give me the topic and it
’
ll be done in about thirty minutes.
”

She doesn
’
t hesitate.
“
Write me a poem about emotion.
”

He looks at her.
“
Emotion?
”

“
Emotion.
”

“
Any specific one?
”

“
No.
”
She shrugs.
“
Just emotion.
”

He glances at me.
“
Do you want one, miss?
”

“
Um. Sure.
”
I look through my purse and pull out a five dollar bill.
“
This is all I have. Sorry.
”

He flashes a smile and shrugs.
“
No worries. What word do you want me to focus on for your poem? I can do anything. Anything at all.
”

I think for a moment and look around me for inspiration. Nothing comes. I bring my hand up to my forehead and shield my eyes from the sun. I think of the silence and how it burns, and the abandoned building going up in flames, and the fear that one day all this good around me will fall to ash.

“
How about burning?
”

The poet is already writing down words and phrases for Jessa
’
s poem when I speak up. His eyes flicker up to my own.

“
Burning?
”

“
Yes. Burning.
”
I feel the heat of attention settle deep in my chest and radiate down my arms. I only have a few minutes before my arms feel like lead so I look away, avoiding eye contact. My gaze meets Jessa
’
s and her eyebrows are raised in approval.

“
Okay then. Burning and emotion. Should be easy.
”
He claps his hands and moves his face down toward the paper, jotting down notes and ideas. For now, we
’
ve lost him. He
’
s in a completely different world.

Jessa nods her head.
“
So uh
…
we
’
ll see you in about thirty minutes?
”

He answers with just the raising of a solitary finger, pointed to the sky. Jessa and I look at each other and shrug and then move toward the pier.

“
If you look to your right there
’
s a pathway down to the beach.
”

I find the side path and make my way to the steps.

I
’
m halted by her sudden hand on my wrist.
“
Stephanie! Look!
”

I follow her gaze.
“
What? I only see an older lady with horrible fashion sense.
”

She snorts.
“
That
’
s who I want you to see. Look closer. Don
’
t you recognize her? It
’
s Diane Keaton.
”

“
That
’
s Diane Keaton.
”

We
’
re ear to ear now, standing side by side and staring at someone not four feet from us.
“
We look ridiculous.
”

Jessa laughs.

“
She
looks ridiculous. I have to text Ren. He won
’
t believe it. He gets so angry because I
’
m always the one seeing people. Just yesterday I saw Severus Snape filling up at a gas station.
”

I laugh, still caught on Diane Keaton wearing what is hopefully a horrible disguise.
“
Wait-wait-wait. That
’
s Diane Keaton. Wearing a dog collar and floppy hat? Oh my god. She
’
s wearing
a dog collar?!
And what
’
s with that guy she
’
s talking to
—
he
’
s like, 20-something. Fucking cougar.
”

We dissolve into a fit of laughter, wiping our eyes.

“
Oh, Santa Monica.
”
Jessa sighs.
“
You never disappoint.
”
She looks at her phone.
“
Twenty minutes until our poems are done. Let
’
s go catch the beginning of the daily diaspora of tourists not wanting to hang out after dark.
”

We rush down the wooden stairs, side-stepping families with two or three bedraggled children in tow. As soon as our feet hit the sand, Jessa takes off her wedges and I maneuver out of my socks and boots.

“
Hey Canada. You live in California now. You can stand to purchase a pair of sandals or ten.
”

“
I
’
m not from Canada. And I happen to like these boots.
”

“
Yeah. If you want to kick ass. Your name isn
’
t Buffy.
”
She pauses and I shake my head.

“
No, Jessa. Just no.
”

We reach the water within a few minutes and start walking opposite the pier.

Jessa glances my way and clears her throat.

“
So what are you going to do about Kevin?
”

I pause mid-step and then continue, hoping she didn
’
t see my falter.

“
What do you mean?
”

She spreads her hands wide.
“
Well. It
’
s been established that he
’
s here and wanting to talk.
”
She looks at me.
“
He seems pretty torn up, Steph.
”

“
Like hell he does.
”
My words are short. I can feel the anger building and I clench and unclench my fists. I blink and his face fills my memory.

Dammit.

“
So what happens if he just shows up? What are you going to do?
”

My pulse races and I sink my feet into the sand.
“
You didn
’
t.
”
I look around.
“
He
’
s not coming here, is he? Jessa, I can
’
t see him.
”
I start shaking my head and my eyes grow wild.

Jessa walks a few steps ahead and then stops to turn. She reaches her hand out to calm me.
“
No. God, no.
”
She rushes over to me.
“
He
’
s not here. At least not by my invitation.
”

I find my breath again.

“
He knows where you work now.
”
She shrugs.
“
It
’
s only a matter of time before you see him. Have you thought about how you
’
re going to handle it?
”

I run my tongue across the ridge of my teeth. The thing is, I have thought about it. I
’
ve thought about it every day since pushing him out of my hospital room. I thought about it when I ran out and found a bus home and when I found the cash my mom stashed and when I decided what to bring and leave behind.

Every step of the way, I expected him to intercept me. I never imagined he wouldn
’
t fight.

I glance at the cliffs in the distance. If I saw him, right here
—
right now
—
I
’
d want to grab hold of what he took from me and find a way to put it back together again. I
’
d want to kiss him. I
’
d want to punch him. I
’
d want to run away. I look at Jessa.

“
I have no idea.
”

She nods.

“
When Ren came back to apologize I spent the majority of that evening wanting to lick every inch of his skin as well as twist his balls.
”

A laugh bubbles up and out of my mouth.
“
That
’
s fucked up.
”

She sighs.
“
I know.
”

“
I kind of love it.
”

We walk for a few more minutes. A toddler comes running up to us with a beach ball, her mother calling for her a few yards away. Jessa laughs, throwing it back to her mother. She squeals and runs after it, jumping into her mother
’
s arms. The woman waves at us and hollers a thank you. Jessa just turns to me and pushes her hair out of her eyes.

“
How long are you planning on staying at the hotel?
”